


The Turbulent Heights

by rasputinberries



Category: Road to El Dorado (2000)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Boys Kissing, Con Artists, Confessions, Denial of Feelings, Depression, Drinking to Cope, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff, Falling In Love, Feels, Gambling, Gay Panic, Guilt, Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, Homophobia, Huddling For Warmth, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Slash, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internal Conflict, Internalized Homophobia, Life Partners, Literal Sleeping Together, Love Confessions, M/M, Male Friendship, Male Slash, Men Crying, Mental Health Issues, Morning Kisses, Nightmares, POV Alternating, POV First Person, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pre-Canon, Recovery, Self-Hatred, Sharing a Bed, Sleepy Cuddles, Sleepy Kisses, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-14
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-03-07 12:33:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3173858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rasputinberries/pseuds/rasputinberries
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seville, Spain, 1516. Young con artist Tulio is struggling with life and on the brink of despair. Can his partner in crime and best friend, Miguel, save him from himself before it's too late? What's more, will the two men realize the true feelings they've been hiding?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. We'll Be Just Fine, Partner

**I. Tulio's Point of View**

Being depressed is like being trapped in the dungeon of a ship. A sinking ship on stormy waters. You know you're going to drown, but there's nothing you can do about it. And sometimes, you don't even care if you drown.

I don't know how long I've been like this. I've known depression even longer than I've known Miguel, and I've known Miguel ever since I was a young teenager. But by 23, it has become a part of me.

"You worry too much, Tulio," Miguel says, his green eyes full of light. Multiple times I've heard it. I am too uptight, too unhappy. When he said it today, after we'd barely escaped the guards, I agree with him, but I cannot stop the sad feeling, even if I tried.

As night falls, we move into a stable to sleep. It is a windy autumn night, and though it isn't a tavern or the shed by the dock that we usually sleep in, it's comfortable enough, if I ignore the musty smell. Because of the cold and our poverty, Miguel and I huddle under a single blanket for warmth in the pile of hay, but I cannot sleep.

"Tulio, are you alright?" my partner asks.

I want to cry into his shoulder. _No, I'm not, and I never was._ "I suppose. I'm just a little sad, that's all."

He touches my cheek. "Don't be."

As if it were that easy. "I'm... I'm scared," I confess. "Will we get caught?"

"No, no. We'll be just fine, partner. Now go to sleep. Don't be scared."

_Partner._ I try to smile, but I feel numb. What I want to say is that even though I worry about my future and what it may bring, at the same time, I don't care hard enough to try. Every day is the same. Miguel and I steal and I wonder how we haven't been executed already. We do it for the gold, but sometimes I become so apathetic that I don't even care about gold. We're just conmen... but who am I, after all? I don't know anymore.

The blond next to me is asleep long before I am. I lie with open eyes, waiting for sleep. Sleep is the closest thing to death that I can get without actually dying. A remedy.

 

**II. Miguel's Point of View**

Ever since I've known Tulio, he's been like this. There are times when it has been worse than usual. I could never understand what he feels, and sometimes I try to reach out to him, but he is inaccessible, as if he is standing up on a wall about to jump and I can't hold him back...

He seems emotionless and withdrawn, and I wonder why. Watching him so sad makes me feel helpless. Is there any way to help him, to get to him?

He is my only friend, my partner.

The days continue like this. I try to ask him if everything is alright, but he dismisses it. We continue our business of gambling and theft by day and spend our nights together, but somehow it isn't the same as it was before.

One night, I play my mandolin on a street corner, looking at the stars, limitless and distant as Tulio's thoughts that I cannot read. As I think of him, he isn't there, and I figure that he is probably in a tavern talking to some girls. He always did like girls, and since we were younger, I gave him advice for winning them over. But he doesn't know how I really feel.

I wish he were here, next to me, as I strum gentle chords. I never want to see him unhappy, because I care about him. I hope that someday, he learns to truly care about himself.


	2. Falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tulio falls deeper into self-doubt and conflict, distancing himself from Miguel.

**Tulio's POV**

When Miguel was in the street that night, I wasn't in the tavern. I was by myself, thinking. Wishing I could disappear, or better yet, die. You see, I've had these kind of thoughts for a long time. Nobody, not even Miguel knows the gravity of them. I can't tell them to anybody. They're permanently engraved in my mind, like a headache.

I hate myself. There are reasons why. I'm a criminal, and the guilt of knowing that I am wanted by the law is difficult to bear. I'm not worth much at all. And I'm a freak. A freak because I think that I am in love with a man.

Not just any man, though. My best friend. He is so beautiful, with golden hair, strong features, and deep green eyes. The way that he laughs is like music; his voice is like a calming song. Even his name sounds beautiful. Miguel, like San Miguel, the archangel. It flows beautifully, and though I am not very religious, he is like an angel.

But it kills me, because Miguel and I can never be together. It's wrong and a sin, I hear people say. Even now, when they see us together, people stare, and I know what they're thinking. Disgusting. Sinful. Unnatural. Stupid. Hell-bound. They are judging us.

I know that I am a terrible person. How can I live like this? I see no point in it all. Gold means nothing to me any more, and I have no enjoyment in anything. What am I living for?

That night, I crack. I cry in front of Miguel. I promised myself that I wouldn't, because in many ways, it is safer to keep everything inside, where I am not vulnerable. Yet I break the promise I've made to myself.

My partner's eyes fill with concern. "Darling, what is wrong?"

 _Darling._ If I weren't so melancholy, the pet name would mean something to me. But does he mean it? Impossible. "Nothing," I flatly reply, but he's seen it, and he knows it is a lie.

"Tulio, I've known you for years. I've seen you cry before. I know that something is wrong."

I feel so blank and dead. "You would not understand."

"Don't cry," the blond man pleads. "Tell me."

I decide to let him in instead of pushing him away. "The truth is... I'm falling apart. I'm falling into a pit of despair, and there's no exit." A tear falls down my cheek. "But yes, I'm okay."

"No... I know that you are not okay. But you have me, and I will always be here for you. I will help you."

"There is nothing left to live for," I mourn. "I wish I could end the pain."

Miguel takes my hand in his own. "Tulio. Don't say that. Life is beautiful, and someday you will see it. I swear."

I cannot believe him, because I have lost all will to believe. The only beautiful thing in my life is him... and I hate myself for loving him. Every day, every hour.


	3. Not Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Misunderstanding and angst builds a wall between two partners.

**Miguel's POV**

A few days later, Tulio and I go back to our favorite tavern. I hope that the alcohol will make him feel better, but I know that his pain is deeper than beer can cure. I'm not trying to get him drunk, merely to lighten his spirits. Alcohol is one way to do that.

There are quite a few women there, including the dark-haired girl who hands us our drinks. She introduces herself as Clara and won't stop smiling at me as a man plays a flamenco tune on his mandolin, making me wish I had mine.

"Senor Miguel," she asks, "care for a dance?"

"Let me finish this beer," I request, not wanting to leave Tulio's side. The girl leaves, but continues ogling me with dark, mysterious eyes.

It's too much for Tulio. His heavy breathing increases and I know that he is jealous. I shake of the ridiculous idea that he is being protective of me because he likes me. Why would he? There are so many beautiful women here, and we may be partners, but not like that. In crime only, he says. He probably wants Clara for himself, and I don't blame him. She has a perfect body, her corset accentuating her curves.

"Partner, I-" I start, wanting to explain that I have no feelings for the brunette. That I turned her down because of him. That I love him more than I love that girl, or any girl. I know that it sounds strange, but I have felt something more than mere companionship for him for years.

"I've had enough," the man next to me snaps.

"Enough to drink? Do you want to leave?" I wonder, but he downs his cup in response.

His blue eyes are cold like a winter sky. "Enough of life."

I touch his shoulder, but he flinches away. "Just listen to me," I plead, and he is silent. "Tulio, I'm sorry. Please smile for me, just this once."

He doesn't smile, not then, not for the rest of the day.

 

**Tulio's POV**

Alcohol is not enough. Sleep, the temporary reprieve, is not enough. Miguel's calming voice, with its slightly British note, is not enough. He is as distant as a bird, soaring freely, while I am shackled to the ground, even as he is by my side.

I wish I had never been born at all.

I wish there was an easier way out, but there is no exit but death. Religion says that taking one's own life is a sin, but I was never destined for Heaven anyway. I am already a sinner for theft, for cheating, for loving Miguel.

One night, I dream that I am falling into a dark ravine that has no end. All darkness envelopes me. When I wake up in tears, Miguel tries to comfort me. "Shh, it will be okay," he promises, running his hand through my hair, but it is not enough. "You're safe. I'm here."

How can I let him in? I can't. I have built a wall between myself and the only person who cares about me. Sweet, caring, innocent Miguel... I have put him through so much trouble and I cannot bear putting him through any more. When I am dead, he won't have to put up with me or live a life of crime. He can find a girl, a beautiful woman like Clara who can love him more than I can, fall in love, have a marriage and children, and play his mandolin through the city without a care in the world.

A few days ago, a man was hanged in the streets for stealing 25 pesetas. It made my flesh crawl to see his lifeless form hanging from the gallows. And I realized that it may be only a matter of time before my time comes and I am executed. I swear that I can feel the rope around my neck, though it isn't there.

What good is life if eventually I will die anyway? I would rather die from my own hand, as soon as possible, than be publicly executed.

I can't let Miguel know the truth. I hate myself and cannot live like this anymore. I swear I will end this desperation.


	4. Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tulio makes a plan; Miguel makes a confession.

**Tulio's POV**

_Dear Miguel,_

_There are words I'd never say to you, but I've written these words here for you right now before I go._

_Of all the things I said to you, I never said goodbye. But I'm saying it now. If you're reading this, it means goodbye. How long?, you ask. Forever._

_You always showed me such kindness, such affection, when I didn't deserve it, and God knows I don't deserve it. I am a freak, a criminal, a sinner. The pain outweighs any moments of happiness in my miserable life._

_This is my last opportunity to tell you something important that I've never told you... I think that I am in love with you. I know that I am not supposed to be. I know that it is unnatural and sinful, that I could be executed for it, and that is why I cannot live with this guilt._

_I have decided that it is time to end my life. You will be just fine without me._

_Goodbye, Miguel, my partner._

I swallow hard and stuff the note into my shirt. The sun is setting, but in my life, it feels as though it will never rise again. I tell myself that the next day, I will finally carry out my plant. The one plan that I will never share with Miguel.

I begin calculating ways to die. My options are limited, as I have to choose a quick method, one that I can do by myself and when Miguel isn't there. I don't want him to see me die- he might try to stop me. If I can obtain a knife, I could do it easily. I could throw myself into the ocean or off of a tall building. If I had a rope, I might go with hanging, but that might take too long. Or I could buy poison and drink it.

That night, I cry myself to sleep, unable to fight the tears. I must have been crying loudly, because the man next to me wakes up, and I know that I can't hide.

"Tulio!" he breathes in concern. "Look at me."

My tear-filled eyes find their way to his, though it's the last thing I want- to see him worry about me.

"I know how you feel. You're depressed. You want to die," he states. How does he know? "But by hiding your feelings, you're not going to make it any better."

"It can't get any better. What do you care whether I live or die? You'll be alright without me."

He frowns, a rare thing for him to do. "No, I do care. I would never be alright without you. Please don't hurt yourself."

"You don't understand it. You never will," I snap. "You never did. This conversation is over, Miguel. Over." 

With those words, I hope he finally leaves me alone. But right then and there, he looks like I've hurt him, yet he continues looking at me sympathetically. "I may not understand, but please don't push me away... I love you, Tulio. I love you."


	5. Sweet Insanity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could Miguel and Tulio be feeling the same thing: love?

**Tulio's POV**

"What?" That was the last thing I'd expected. I blink away tears, staring at him incredulously.

"Did I stutter?" he asks, giving me a serious gaze.

"But..." I start to trail off.

Before he says anything else, Miguel pulls me in for a tight embrace, so close that I feel his own heartbeat against mine. "Partner." His warm breath against my cheek is gentle, and even though I want to pull away, to fall back into my safe darkness, I don't. I remember why I fell in love with him, even though it was an accident.

"M...Miguel," I stammer, reluctant to hold him as he holds me. Finally, my arms discover their way around him. I will never let go. I will never push him away ever again. Not now, not when we're this close.

He uses his strong hands to make my face meet his, and before I can say another word, he presses his mouth to mine, and my lips respond by kissing him back. His beard brushes against my skin, sending a light chill through me.

It defies explanation, the way things should be. My plan didn't involve this. I'll be dead tomorrow, I remind myself. I don't deserve any of Miguel's love, but there he is, and I cannot resist even if I tried.

When he pulls away, I am in shock and nearly fall backwards. "Have you lost your mind? This wasn't supposed to happen!" I insist, still in denial and fear of consequences.

"Tulio, relax. What's meant to happen will happen," the blond explains, smiling.

"Are you crazy?" It seems by some goddamned miracle that the world has turned on its head and by some twist of fate, Miguel is in love with me, probably the most pathetic man in all of Spain. Next thing we know, we'll probably be richer than the king, the way things seem to be going.

His eyes light up. "Crazy? For you only."

Before I object, he kisses me again, this time deeper and with more passion, and I gladly let him, because I have been holding back for too long. As his tongue gently enters my mouth, I tenderly stroke his gold hair.

"I love you, too," I finally admit after the kiss. I mean it, with all that I am. That little voice says I'm insane, but it also compels me to him. Yet, I hang my head in shame. "But I hate myself for it. It's impossible. I'm so sorry."

He holds my palm to his warm chest. "Is this because we're both men? Because society tells us that we can't love?" he questions. "Tulio, darling, we are partners. Don't listen to them. They don't understand us. They don't know that what we feel is love. Just love."

For once, I don't feel like a freak. I feel loved at last by the only person I've ever really loved. True, there were women, but what I feel for this man is more meaningful. Him. He almost has me convinced.

Miguel and I fall asleep together under the blanket. His arms hold me to his chest and I rest my head on his shoulder. We are asleep within minutes, and for the first time in weeks, there is a spark of hope. A faint spark, but still some.

 

**Miguel's POV**

I am awake before my partner is, but I don't dare wake him, as he is so peaceful, looking more happy than he has in weeks. When he finally stirs, I plant a small kiss on his forehead. "Good morning, amigo." God, I love him so much, so much that to me, he is worth more than gold.

"Miguel, I am trying to sleep..." He rolls over, back turned to me.

I play with a strand of his ebony hair. "Would you like another kiss?"

"What even happened last night?" he yawns.

It was so beautiful, what happened. By no means was it the first time that we kissed or acted in a loving way with each other. We kissed for the first time awkwardly as teenagers, accidentally bumping noses in an alley. There were drunken nights at taverns where we acted without thinking. There were years of quick pecks on the cheek or the hand, countless hugs and holding hands. Yet it had never been this meaningful, this deliberate.

"You don't remember?"

"No, I remember." His eyes open and he stares at the shed's ceiling. There's no real bed in the shack except a mattress stuffed with straw. "I just can't believe it actually happened."

"You can't, my love?"

He exhales. "It was just an accident," Tulio breathes, firm and unfeeling. "A crazy accident."

"What do you mean?" I wonder.

He seems to be growing cold again. "It wasn't part of my plan. It wasn't supposed to be this way."

"Tulio, are you hiding something from me?"

"It's none of your business," he states, pulling on his vest. I can read guilt on his face. "I want to be alone right now." He rises as if about to leave.

"If that's what you want... I am not going to stop you." But then I worry. If I'm not by his side, how can I be sure he stays safe? He's expressed self-destructive urges before. "But please remember how much I love you. I'm not giving up on you. I'm not giving up on our love."

"Miguel, I am so sorry..." He turns to me and right then and there, I push him against the wall, still lightly because we've both just woken up and I don't want to hurt him. As he is there, I quickly kiss him, just a little peck, and my hands keep a hold on his body.

When it's over, I smile at him, hoping that he'll return one. I would do anything just to see his sweet smile again. God knows he thinks I have gone mad now, but his eyes seem alive once more.

It is the sweetest insanity one can experience.


	6. Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can Tulio tell Miguel about his depression without ruining their relationship?

I do not carry out my plan that day, the plan to take my life, though I do consider it briefly. The note lays inside my shirt, paper against skin.

Should I show it to Miguel? Or just tell him about it? Is this something better left unsaid?

I act without thinking, taking the note and ripping it to shreds. Immediately after, I scatter it into the street. My partner will never see it.

That afternoon, I start to have regrets. The little voice in my head tells me that I should not have acted so rashly, but there is no turning back.

Finally, a couple days later, I have the energy to be interested in cons again. Miguel and I play for ten pesetas at a dice game with some burly-looking men who are older and more experienced. I try to be as confident as I used to be when my friend and I gambled together, before this onset of depression. Miguel's bravado is high as always as he strums the mandolin and I roll the dice. It's a success, and we win the pesetas. The blond cheers and dances around me as I take the gold coins, and I can't help but smile just a little. As he notices my expression, he smiles back.

"Well, amor, it's about time you showed me that beautiful smile," he says quietly so the other men don't hear. They're already angry enough at us. If they heard, God knows what would happen. But then it hits me. This man thinks I'm beautiful. It is a wonder, as I am quite plain and he is like a deity.

I spot a soldier out of the corner of my eye. "We should leave. I've got the money. Let's run!" So we slip away with our spoils and hide in a deserted alleyway.

When we're there, we sit against the wall together. "Are you feeling better, Tulio?" he asks, a hand on my arm.

"I... I think so," I confess. For a while I'm silent, but then I tell him the truth. I don't make a big deal of it, I just let the words go. "I know this may come as a surprise to you but I have to tell you. I had a plan to kill myself the other day. I'd been feeling suicidal for the longest time."

Miguel sympathetically nods and throws his arms around me. "Darling. I knew you felt that way but I didn't know it was that bad. I'm so sorry."

"You're not angry?" I wonder.

"Not angry. Just sad that you feel so unhappy," he states. "You were right. I don't understand how it feels. But I'm still here."

When we are back in the shed we call home, my partner becomes more emotional. "You... you almost took your own life. And you didn't tell me!" Miguel's voice is near a shout by now and I worry that he may burst into tears, though he never does. He is to me a golden angel, radiating joy.

I try to explain, to clear my conscience. How does one explain being suicidal? It's wrong, a sin, just like loving my partner. "I knew you'd figure it out when I died. I even wrote a note. It was my plan."

"No, but why didn't you tell me? I thought I had your trust!"

"I'm telling you now. But the reason I didn't earlier is... I had torn a rift between us. It's my fault. This depression is my fault. Me... I'm ridiculous," I finalize.

"No, mi querido, it's not ridiculous at all. You are very special to me... You mean the world to me!" he pleads, an inviting look upon his countenance.

"When you said you loved me...I never thought you'd feel the same. But I'm glad you do," I tell him. "You showed real love, and I knew I couldn't give up yet. As bad as I thought my life was, I felt hope for the first time that night."

There is no way to deny, no way to turn around or reject my friend's empathy. He could be chasing gorgeous women, but he decides to be my companion.

Miguel smiles yet again. "Tulio, I told you that someday you'd realize life is worth living."

The little voice is almost shouting at this point. _Do something. Kiss him._ I thank him with a long, gentle embrace and brush my lips against his. For a moment I forget that we are both men. We are just two people who care about each other very much.

That night, Miguel and I go for drinks at the tavern again, but we don't see that girl Clara, luckily, so she isn't there flirting with my partner. He stays by my side the entire time, laughing, trying to make me smile, drinking, and I'm fairly certain he is drunk by the time we're done. We spend five pesetas on a room for the night; it has been a while since we've slept in a real bed. The sheets are clean, the pillows are soft, and my amigo and I drift off into peaceful slumber.


	7. Mañana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An ending. A new beginning.

Pain doesn't go away. It lessens. And then, it swells like a wound too big to ignore, just when you thought it was healing. _What is the point to it all? I am one man, a thief, a con artist. Does my life mean anything to the world?_  
Miguel says it does. "We will face this as partners," he tells me. Him, the one person who can help me. I shudder, aware of what he is asking. Me, of all people. He knows that I am struggling and he offers to be there.

When he calms me, I feel my depression loosening its hold on me. All is peaceful when he laughs, when he gives me gentle signs of affection. 

I know that what we share is special, different than anything else. I am still coming to terms with my feelings for Miguel, but I've learned to give myself time. And as time goes on, I appreciate every day I have with him as my partner. We belong together.

But sometimes I have to convince myself. Miguel can't do everything for me. I must believe that I can survive. He can help me give myself motivation. 

That's the reason we are partners. I trust him; he trusts me. He knows more about me than anyone, yet he accepts me even as the flawed man I am. When I'm afraid of the turbulent heights in life, he soothes me.

I don't know what lies ahead, but I am sure that Miguel and I will face it together. Tomorrow, _mañana,_ has a name. _Miguel._

"Someday everything will be better," he says. "We will have money, adventure, and each other."

And finally, I have faith in his words.


End file.
